


Just Chillin'

by onecent



Series: Winterhawk Week 2016 [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Brainwashed Assassins, Fluff, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Relationship, Some angst, Winterhawk Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 22:31:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6926290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onecent/pseuds/onecent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Civil War, Clint Barton tries to adjust to his new life and the people he'll be spending his time with. He's all for team bonding, but it seems the universe has decided to make even that a challenge.</p><p>Contains spoilers for Captain America: Civil War.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Chillin'

It wasn’t that Clint was ungrateful to have help from the actual king of Wakanda. He’d been busted out of a top security prison and given a sweet set-up in essentially a palace in a beautiful jungle. He even had promises from King T’Challa that his sister-in-law and her kids would be looked after in his absence. And yes, that was all great, and he was very happy to have them and himself safe.

But.

Clint grew up in the circus, then became a freelance agent, then joined SHIELD, then became an Avenger. When he’d retired to go spend time with what family he had left and help fix up the house now that Barney wasn’t around to do it, he really had gotten bored. Cap’s call had been a relief. The fact that he was helping to rescue Wanda, who he was starting to see like an extra niece, was just bonus.

Now the fight was over and he was sitting in style, but he was bored. There weren’t any more missions to go out on or bad guys to fight. There wasn’t even a house to fix up or a plumbing emergency to solve.

So he started to wander. There were certain places in the palace where he wasn’t allowed, and the scarily intimidating women - they reminded him of Natasha - made it clear which places those were. Everywhere else he explored, all the way from the bottom floor to the roof, where he ended up staking out a spot that had the best view of the jungle canopy and the houses hidden under it. Still, there were only so many hours a day someone could spend staring out at the trees.

He also tried to set aside a few hours for team building each day. Wanda was still shaken from her time on the Raft, and he was one of the few people who she still let sit with her. Scott had almost immediately hitched a ride back to America to be with his daughter, saying something about pretending to be an action figure if people came looking. Sam spent most of his time with Steve, keeping an eye on the world at large and looking for information on people recovering from various mental trauma. They’d actually grilled Clint pretty heavily for a while about his own brainwashing experience, but his suggestion of “just hit him really hard on the head” was not met with a very positive response.

That brought up, of course, the final member of the team. Sam said Bucky didn’t really count as part of the team, since he’d been against them for most of the time and then they’d just sort of been saving his ass, but Clint figured it didn’t matter how much of the fight Bucky’d been brainwashed for. The fact he’d been with them at all made him an Avenger. Then Steve said Bucky had chosen to go back into cryo for the time being, which threw a big wrench in Clint’s plan to bond with the guy over being brainwashed by a supervillain.

“Can I just like...talk to the guy?”

The guard did not even bother to respond. She glared at Clint, then at a point just past his shoulder.

“So is that a no, then?” Clint asked. “I'm not getting a good read here, so if you could maybe…”

“You know that he is unconscious, correct?”

Clint spun at the sound of King T’Challa’s voice. “Oh, your majesty,” he said, bobbing his head. “Sorry. I didn't mean to bother--I'll just go, then.”

“Wait.” The King placed a hand on Clint's shoulder and nodded to the woman at the door. She stepped aside, and the two men entered together.

Bucky was in a tall tube in the middle of the room, hooked up to a series of machines. Clint stared at him while T’Challa pulled over a chair.

“It helps, I think,” T’Challa said, “to have a face to speak to, even if they cannot hear you. You are restless. If you need someone to share your thoughts with, I do not think he will mind.”

Clint stared at the king while he left, then let his eyes drift over to the sleeping Bucky. He stepped up to the pod and stared at the man's face and missing arm.

“Shit, I hope that didn't hurt too much,” he said to the pod. “I mean, it was metal, so probably...but if there were sensors. And it must've hurt the first time. So. Uh. Sorry. We got off on the wrong foot.”

Clint retreated back to the chair. He sat and looked up at the pod. “Hi. I'm Clint.”

\----------

“So can I share something with you? In complete confidence?” Clint looked at Bucky's frozen face. It was his third time coming in and sitting with Bucky. He thought that was enough time for them to trust one another. “This whole thing with Tony. It's dumb, right? The Accords, the fighting...we tore ourselves apart and there wasn't really any reason for it.”

Clint holds up his hands. “Not that you're not a good reason! Look, I don't think anyone should be locked up for things they did trying to help people or while they were out of their own control. That would be pretty damn hypocritical of me, wouldn't it?” He scratched the back of his head, feeling a phantom ache again from being shoved out into a corner of his own brain and forced to watch through a haze of blue scepter light.

“You shouldn't have to be locked up. That's on the people who controlled you. And Wanda, she's just a kid, really. I made some pretty dumb mistakes when I was first starting out. And I got in trouble for them, sure, but I was also fighting for the wrong team at the time.

“Oh, I might not have mentioned that.” Clint put his feet up on the table in front of him and pushed himself back until he was balanced on the back two legs. “Wasn't just in the circus. Was part of a circus of crime, which somehow seemed like a less embarrassing name back then, don't ask me how. Anyway. Mistakes I made? I was trying to take care of myself. That shit that happened to Wanda? She's just trying to save lives. She wants so badly to help people and you know it kills her every time someone falls through the cracks. So why do they have to go in and lock her up for doing her best? Not like she's the one who blew up Sokovia or set off a bomb in Nigeria.”

Clint shifted in the chair again and let his head hang off the back. “And you, you just made the dumb call to follow the biggest walking poster for reckless endangerment that I have ever seen. That's not your fault. Not anyone's fault really. I've been doing the same thing. Just came back and bit you in the ass harder than everyone else. Or in the arm, I guess.” He shrugged.

“But at the end of the day, I get it. I get why people are afraid. Probably not as much of me, since my charm and fantastic sense of humor put people off.” He grinned at the cryo case. “That's a joke. You're allowed to laugh. It's all at my own expense anyway. I'm not super like the rest of the team. Don't even have the cool tech like Sam or Tony. Just a guy fighting with a Paleolithic weapon. Like an asshole.

“But everyone else...yeah. Most people on this team could destroy a building by doing little more than thinking about it. I get why people would want to make sure there are safeguards for that. I just don't think people thought through everything before they made the call. Disasters happen suddenly, and emergency teams need to be able to respond immediately. Having to wait for the paperwork to go through or while someone filibusters the UN means more people dying. Wait, is filibustering a thing in the UN? I don't know. Shit, is that one of the things I was supposed to learn in high school?”

He shook his head. Dropping his feet off the table, he let his chair fall back on all fours and stood to walk around the room. “My point is, in trying to save the world, I think we just managed to break it. All because we got scared.”

Looking over at the clock, he sighed and shakes his head. “Good talk,” he says, patting the glass. His thumb ran across the smooth surface, and he smiled. “I think I have an idea.”

\----------

“First we have to check it, so just hold with me while I...yes!” Clint rubbed away the thin line he'd drawn on the edge of the glass. “Oh, we are in business. This is going to be so much fun.”

Holding up a large package of dry erase markers, Clint grinned. “Bucky Barnes, are you ready for your makeover?” He pulled out a red marker and started to draw a pair of bright red lips over Bucky’s face. “I’m going to pretend you said yes, but I’m not going to make any funny voices and pretend that was you speaking, because I don’t want this to get weird. Now hold still, I’m doing your eyes next.”

He got lost in his work for a while, drawing and talking about whatever came to mind. He started with favorite music and wandered through discussing food, hairstyles, and reality television. "...but the real problem with the show is the focus on the conflict instead of acknowledging that most of the time what must be going on is incredibly dull, just with people sitting around on their computers. I mean, I've spent time in a house full of superheroes, and you would be amazed how much--"

“Clint? What the hell are you doing?”

The black marker he was using to draw in a robot arm/lobster claw as a replacement for Bucky’s missing limb skittered across the glass, cutting across the abs Clint had helpfully drawn in. He spun to face Sam, who stood with his arms crossed in the doorway.

“Uh,” Clint said, capping the marker. “Art?”

Sam looked from the glass to Clint, then back to Bucky. “Did you give him hair bows?”

“And blush.”

There’s a moment of silence as Sam inspected the pod. Then he held his hand out. “Green. I need to give this guy a mohawk.”

Clint smiled and passed over the marker. “So you’re not going to tattle on me?”

“This is one of the best ideas you’ve ever had,” Sam said, sketching out the new hairline. “But we probably shouldn’t tell Steve.” He pulled back with wide eyes. “This stuff comes off, right?”

In answer, Clint wiped up the mistake from earlier and went back to working on the arm. “And here I thought Bucky wouldn’t be good for team bonding. I’m going to go tell Wanda. I think she’ll want to join.”

Sam called after Clint as he went. “Get something to wipe this down with. Your eyeliner got smudged, and we’re going to have to redo it.”

\----------

Clint waved a cheery hello to the guard as he headed toward what he was thinking of Bucky’s room. She ignored him, as always, and he pushed the door open.

“--trying every possible option, I just can’t find--oh. Hey, Clint.”

Clint nearly froze when he saw Steve sitting in the chair, hands clasped between his knees and looking downright pitiful. But he forced himself to continue walking, gripping the straps of his backpack tightly. He wandered over to a table and leaned against the edge.

“Hey, Steve. How’re you doing?”

“I’m all right.” Steve tried to smile, but it was tired and sad. “Sam send you here to check up on me?”

Clint took a guess. “You’ve been here for a while.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve put his hands on his knees and stood, stretching out his back with a loud pop. Clint only just kept from wincing. “Just had to, well. I wanted to check on him.”

“Get some things off your chest?” Clint offered a small smile in response. “Hey, I get it. You’re not the only one who takes comfort in talking to him, even if there’s no response. I have it on good authority that T’Challa comes in here to talk to him, and I’ve been known to come by myself.”

“Well, it’s good to know that people are coming by regularly, I guess.”

“Absolutely.” Clint went over to clap Steve on the shoulder. “We’re all hoping to see this work out.”

The door opened again, and Wanda walked in with a small bag slung over her shoulder. Clint put himself behind Steve and swung a hand across his throat in a kill gesture, then waved a hand to try to shoo her out.

“Hey, Wanda,” Steve said, starting to sound a little suspicious. “What--”

“Haha, hey, hey there,” Clint said, stepping forward and wrapping his arm around Wanda’s shoulders. “You found me! Just in time for our picnic. Come on, let’s go ahead and head on up to the roof.” He turned and gave Steve a mock salute. “We’ll be seeing you, then. Just gonna go have lunch with my teammate. Take care, Steve!”

“Goodbye, Steve,” Wanda said, managing to not sound completely bewildered.

Behind them both, Steve narrowed his eyes and went to talk to Sam.

\----------

“Steve thinks you two are sleeping together. Red.” Sam put up his hand and waited for Clint to throw the marker into it.

“He thinks what?” Clint tossed the marker and looked over to Wanda, who sat with her eyes wide and marker frozen where she’d been using it to doodle a bunch of flowers across Bucky’s hair.

Sam took the red and started turning Bucky’s missing arm into a large ketchup bottle. “The way you two both turned up here looking guilty and then ran off together? He thinks you were coming in here to fool around together.”

“Because if I want to sleep with someone I want to do it in front of the frozen fury here,” Clint said, rolling his eyes. He went back to staring at said frozen fury, though he was definitely not admiring that very nice jawline or that very nice arm. Shame he’d lost the other one, those biceps looked like they could kill a man just from being so pretty.

Wanda went back to her drawing. “Clint is old enough to be my father,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “But it is not Steve’s business what I do, anyway.”

“It sort of is,” Sam said. He sat back to look at his work. “I mean, it is when it might mess up the team. And when it involves this guy. He still feels like he’s gotta look out for his best friend.”

“He’s asleep!” Clint waved his hand at the pod. “He wouldn’t know if people were having sex in front of him. Which we aren’t, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Exactly. Steve has nothing to worry about.”

“Perhaps, but I am starting to grow concerned.”

Sam, Clint, and Wanda spun to see T’Challa standing in the doorway.

“It’s not what it looks like?” Clint offered.

Wanda started rubbing at a part of the glass, wiping off the evidence of whatever she’d drawn. Or maybe the thing Clint had drawn as a joke. Yeah, that would be a good idea. No need for King T’Challa to see a dick drawn on his extremely high-tech cryo pod.

“It appears that you are drawing on your brainwashed companion and talking about your teammate behind his back.” T’Challa looked at Clint. “This was not exactly what I intended when I gave you permission to spend your time in here.”

Clint threw his hands open. “We’re bonding!” he said. “You’re welcome to join us.” Sam and Wanda slowly capped their markers and stepped away.

“I needed to work through an idea for a new power generator,” T’Challa said, eyeing the team. “If you would like to be here as I talk through it…”

“No, no, that’s fine, I needed to go, uh, check my arrows anyway.” Clint stood and started collecting stray markers and piling them into his bag. “Wanda, want to help me check arrows?”

“Did you get that new design put together?” she said, standing and following him out the door.

“Oh, come on!” Sam said, still wiping down Bucky’s pod.

\----------

Clint shuffled into Bucky’s room. There were no lights on, just a dim glow from the cryo pod itself.

“Hey,” he said, pulling up the chair right next to the pod. “Sorry to wake you.” He sat down heavily and leaned his head against the cold glass. “Bad night. Again.” He curled his arms up tight against his chest.

“I miss Nat.” Clint sighed and let his eyes drift closed. “I know I’m not the only one on the team who gets the nightmares. Wanda’s lost her whole family, and Steve, well. I know he tries to pretend he’s fine but I’m not sure I’ve seen a man with more suicidal tendencies, and he still shudders every time he gets hit with a blast of cold air, so let’s not pretend the years under the ice didn’t bother him.

“But he’s still caught up in not telling anyone he’s hurting, so it’s not like I can tell him about all this. And I can’t put anything more on Wanda, not when she’s already been through so much. I know it’s probably kind of weird, but I just...she’s just a kid, you know? I just want to make sure she’s okay. And then Sam, well, when he’s not being a prickly sonuvabitch he’s clinging to Steve. And T’Challa’s a king, so when you get down to it, there’s not really anyone...to talk to…”

He let his head feel hard against the glass. “This is so stupid. I’m so stupid. I probably should’ve gone to the therapist like Phil always used to say, and Laura. But I didn’t, and now look at me. I’m talking to a frozen box.” He let out a heartless laugh.

“All joking aside, though, this has actually been pretty helpful for me. Thanks for letting me vent. Not that you had much say in the matter but, you know. It was good to get some stuff off my chest.” Clint patted the pod right next to Bucky’s shoulder. “When you get out, just let me know and I’ll return the favor. I’ll fall asleep and you can talk about your nightmares.”

He sat there, listening to the hum of the machines and watching the window until the sun came up.

\----------

“I have been thinking,” Wanda said, dangling her legs off the roof next to Clint. “Maybe I should try to work with Bucky.”

Clint shoved the last of his hot dog in his mouth. “Yeah?” he said, just managing to not spew out crumbs. “You think you can manage that?”

Wanda gave him a disgusted look. “And Steve thinks we are dating.”

“I’m just trying to be a good role model.” Clint swallowed his food and licked his fingers. “So. Bucky. You can try to get into his mind?”

“I have been trying.” She looked out over the jungle and shrugged, as though she hadn’t just admitted to meddling with the brain of Steve Roger’s best friend and the Winter Soldier. “I try to share with him, to open a channel directly to his mind. Allow him to be a part of the world even though he cannot be in it.”

Clint frowned. He grabbed his beer from next to him and rolled it between his palms. “Yeah? And what exactly does that look like?”

“When I am there, I show him what I am seeing. I want him to trust me. Even though he is at rest, his mind is guarded. He needs to trust me so that I can look for the things that can still control him. But it is hard.” She took a deep breath. “I do not have much experience with trying to fix people’s heads. Sorry.”

Clint placed a hand on her arm. “It’s pretty cool that you want to help,” he said, leaning down to try and catch her eye. “But if you’re able to communicate with Bucky in any way, you need to tell him what you are doing there. Even if you think he’ll kick you out for it. Speaking as someone who’s done the whole brainwashing thing, he deserves to know what’s in his head and be in control of it.”

They sat together long enough for Clint’s beer to grow warm. He decided against drinking the last of it and stood up. “I’m heading inside. And Wanda? I think you should help, if you think you can. But you need to talk to Steve, and you need to talk to Bucky before you do it.”

He waited for her to nod before heading back inside.

\----------

The sound of the first knock made Clint roll over in bed. The second knock had him throwing a pillow at the door. When the knocking grew persistent, he dragged himself up and stumbled over to see who was there.

“What?” he grumbled. He rubbed his eyes enough to make out Sam’s frown.

“Did you do this?”

“Do what?” Clint left the door open and turned back to grab some sweats off the floor and start pulling them on.

“They’re pulling Bucky out of cryo,” Sam said.

Clint paused with one leg out of his pants. “Really? Damn, there goes my favorite pastime.” He resumed getting dressed.

Sam crossed his arms. “Wanda said it was because of something you said.”

Clint groaned and snatched a t-shirt off the dresser. “I just told her not to try to fix people without their permission or knowledge. I didn’t tell her to drag the guy out of his beauty sleep.” Not that he really needed more beauty sleep, a part of Clint’s brain cut in before he could stop it.

“Well that’s what they’re doing. Steve and T’Challa are watching him right now. You wanna get down there and keep an eye on things?”

“Nah.” Clint sat down on the bed and dug out a pair of sneakers. “Let them handle this one on their own.”

“You heading down to the range, then?”

“I’m packing.” Clint knelt down on the ground and dug under the bed, pulling out a large black bag. “I always figured, I’ll stick around to make sure no one’s gonna go postal, take care of Wanda so that she doesn’t feel so threatened. But now she’s got a project to work on and Steve’ll have his friend back, and T’Challa’s got a kingdom to run, and you’ve got a couple of idiots to protect. Figure it’s time for me to head out.”

Sam stood for a moment, watching while Clint threw his things into the bag. “Where you gonna go, exactly?”

“No plans.” Clint checked his gun and tucked it into the elastic of his sweatpants. “I’ll see if I can find Natasha, maybe. Check on my family.”

Sam sighed through his nose. “At least come down and say goodbye to everyone?”

Clint zipped up his bag and threw it over his shoulder. He looked Sam over for a moment before shrugging. “All right. Lead on.”

They headed down to Bucky’s room together and found a few doctors hovered around a newly awakened Bucky with Steve and Wanda waiting nearby. Clint snuck around the edges of the room until he was next to Wanda and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

“I’m heading out,” he said in a low voice. “You take care of yourself, all right?”

“You’re leaving?” she whispers back. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll be around. And I’ll check in. You guys don’t need me, now that you have someone else to worry over.” He nodded over at Bucky.

Steve glanced over Wanda’s head and frowned. “They’ll be looking for you.”

Clint shrugged. “Probably not that hard. I’m not exactly top priority when they’ve got you guys to worry about. And I know how to go to ground. I was a SHIELD assassin before I was an Avenger. I can look after myself for a while.”

“You can’t go.”

Clint dropped his arm from Wanda’s shoulder and looked over at Bucky, who was glaring back. “I...what? Why do you care?”

“After whining to me all hours of the night and drawing all over me whenever Steve’s back was turned?” Bucky shook off the doctor still holding onto his right arm. “You said you were going to stick around so I could vent to you. You can’t just walk off.”

Clint’s jaw fell. “You weren’t...you were frozen!” He turned to Steve and held his hands up. “I don’t know what he’s talking about. Talking, and drawing, that’s just….just…” He glanced from Steve to Bucky and back before pointing a finger at T’Challa. “He comes in here to talk over computer code!”

“You were drawing on him?” Steve asked.

Clint looked back at Sam, who shrugged, and then at Wanda. His shoulders drooped. “Yeah. On the glass. Sorry. I should’ve invited you.”

“Clint, that’s not…” Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes.

“Sam gave me a mohawk,” Bucky said. “And Wanda added a wizard wand. T'Challa used the glass to work out math formulas and sketch out arm redesigns."

Everyone stood for a minute in silence as they let Steve take in the new information.

“Talking all hours?” Clint hissed at Wanda. “I thought you let him see when you were around, not all the other crap.”

“It is not an exact thing. I'm still learning!” she whispered back.

Steve looked Bucky over. “How much did you hear and see, then?”

Bucky’s mouth twitched and he turned away. “Enough to know you spent too much time in here crying over me instead of out helping people.”

In the silence that fell over the room, T’Challa began inching toward the exit. “I’m sorry, but I must go,” he said as he reached the door. “My country needs me.”

Sam hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “Yeah, I think I should go check on my reports. That I’ve been writing and going over. I’ll see you guys later.” He followed T’Challa out the door but couldn’t resist sticking his head in at the last moment and looking at Bucky. “Just let me know when you want the uh, you know.” He ran his hand over his head, fingers pointing straight up, and pointed back at Bucky. “I think you’d pull off the green.”

Steve sighed and turned to face Wanda. “All right, your turn to come up with an excuse to leave.”

“I need to think,” she said, rubbing her temple with one hand. “I did not think I had been doing so much. The brain is very complicated.” She reached out for the chair but stumbled as she walked.

“Woah, woah,” Steve said, catching her arm. “Okay, let’s go find you somewhere to sit down. We’ll work through this.” He began to lead her out of the room. At the door he threw a glance over his shoulder to Bucky. “I’ll be right back,” he promised.

Bucky shrugged. “I’m not going anywhere.” As the door swung shut, he turned to face Clint, who had picked up his backpack and was making his own way out. “But you’re still leaving?”

“Look, I just think it’s for the best,” Clint said. He looked away from Bucky. “I’m sorry about all that shit I said and did. You shouldn’t have had to put up with all that.”

“The drawings were pretty funny.”

Clint looked up to Bucky and saw that he was smiling. It was small, but definitely a smile. “Not just inappropriate?” he said.

“Nah. It’s the kind of shit me and Steve used to pull back when we were kids. So, you know. A little immature, but kind of funny. And I didn’t mind all the talking, either. Though I think you definitely still owe me some listening time.”

“I was talking to a box!” Clint protested. “I didn’t think you were actually having to put up with all that shit!”

“It wasn’t all shit. You were having a hard time. Happens to everyone. But now you’re just going to run off when you made a promise to be there when I woke up. And I didn’t take you for the kind to go back on your word, Barton.”

Clint frowned for a minute. Then he spotted Bucky’s continued smirk and found a smile of his own growing. “Yeah? Trust me already?”

“Well. You’re an Avenger. Even if you left for a while. Doesn’t matter how long you’re in for, you’re still an Avenger.” Bucky’s small smirk grew into a full smile. “And even after all this mess, I trust the Avengers. I think when it comes down to it, you’ll all be there to save the world. And to save all the people in it.”

“We can’t save everyone, you know.” Clint looked down at his boots.

“You try.” Bucky took a deep breath. “I think I’m ready to try, too. Once we get these words out of my head, think you’d be able to show another brainwashed ex-assassin how to stop being the villain for a little while and come in out of the cold?”

Clint smiled up again at his teammate. “Buck, it would be my genuine pleasure.”

**Author's Note:**

> This week I will be writing in conjunction with author [ottobarnes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ottobarnes/profile) to complete the Winterhawk Week challenge.
> 
> My tumblr is [@girlouttaplace](http://girlouttaplace.tumblr.com).


End file.
